


Dormant Diaval

by Scarlet_Nezumi



Category: Fairy Tale - Fandom, Maleficent (2014), Sleeping Beauty (Fairy Tale), Sleeping Beauty - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, Fairy Tale Parody, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4705787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Nezumi/pseuds/Scarlet_Nezumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To be a prince, one simply has to save a princess. This was no exception in Prince Philip’s case except he learns that not all princesses are female and true love does not always happen at first sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sleeping Beauty

Prince Philip whacked another vine that surrounded the palace where his future queen lay dormant. He’d been trimming away the weeds that had grown around the palace since the sun was high overhead and now it had dropped behind the turrets. His arm was growing sore and he was fairly certain that his sword would be dulled once he got back home.

Swinging heavily once more, he cut back the last vine that blocked his way. A grand stone stairs covered in strangling vines led him up to the rotting wooden doors. Philip leaned his shoulder into one of the once grand doors and it gave way.

The front doors led the prince into a grand hallway where two thrones sat empty in the distance. There were fine oak tables on both sides of the doors, that would have been beautiful if not for the heavy layer of dust and water damage that marred each one.

The afternoon sun met the tops of the pointed windows and cast long shadows across the stone floor along two hallways, one lined with armor and the other a twilight lit marvel from the light streaming in were the prince’s best bet as to where the alleged princess might be asleep.

She was the goal of his journey ever since he had heard of the rumor from a local merchant who was traveling through his kingdom that a sleeping beauty lay less than a days ride from his home. The man had spoken of the legend of the bewitched princess, who had fallen into a deep sleep, but would awaken, with the kiss of her true love.

The legend was an old one, but the merchant said that he had seen a turret peeking out of a nest of vines. Once the prince connected the legend to the fact that a kingdom in the area had mysteriously fallen to ruin, he decided to journey there to see if the rumors were true.

Prince Philip took the hallway that was well lit and after following it down a few twists and turns, he arrived at the entrance to one of the castle’s turrets. His boots echoed along the walls as he treaded carefully along the crumbling stone.

The door at the apex opened with a hideous creak and as the Prince looked inside, he found what he had been seeking. In a bed covered with pink chiffon lay a beautiful young maiden with golden hair. As the prince reverently approached, a voice from the corner of the room caught him off guard.

“Are you here to save the princess?” it hissed.

The prince spun around and brandished his sword toward a young man with raven hair that hung past his shoulders and framed his feminine face. He was lean, but not thin and wore the clothes of princes of the day, a dark purple tunic with black boots and a short black cape.

“Yes, I am.” Prince Philip replied, “Why are you here?”

The young man smiled, a lion taunting its prey. “To stop you.” He said simply. He had no weapon that the prince could see, which made the situation all that more strange.

The young man smirked.

Prince Philip’s muscles twitched and he fell the ground; suddenly feeling like he had run for a thousand miles by the way his muscles ached.

“That was too easy.” The young man sighed bending on one knee beside the fallen prince. The man reached for the prince’s sword. The prince tried to keep his grip on it, but his aching muscles failed him.

The young man inspected the sword, carefully balancing it on his fingertips. “Swords are such lovely weapons. It’s a pity that I’m no good with them.” he murmured and turned his attention back to the Prince. “As mother says, let’s get you back to the pits of Hell.”

The young man snapped his fingers and in an instant they were in a musty cell, with the only light coming from torches beyond the bars. The young man stepped through the cell door and locked it behind him, leaving Prince Philip helplessly on the ground.

He had never before been so out of control of a situation. “You can’t just leave me here.” Prince Philip said, his eyes trained on the young man’s face.

The young man’s lips lifted slightly, “and why is that?” he asked as if pitying a child.

“I don’t even know why I’m here. You can’t just lock me away without telling me my crimes.”

The young man laughed, a cackle like a hyena. He gripped the bars and peered in to the cell. “Crime? Where do you think are, some sort of vigilante’s dungeon?” he righted himself slightly, “Well in that case, I suppose you aren’t wrong, per se.” he gently stroked his bare chin.

“Who are you?” the Prince asked, cutting through the man’s monologue.

The young man’s lips straightened, “I’m Diaval and you have the pleasure of meeting the son of the high fairy queen Maleficent.”

Maleficent.

That was a name that he recognized. He knew of her. She was the most powerful evil sorceress in the known lands. If he was her son, then that would explain his magical abilities.

“Why am I here then?” the prince asked again. The tingling in his muscles was fading and he struggled to sit up, in an attempt to maintain some dignity.

Diaval rolled his eyes, stepping back and folding his arms. “My mother does not want anyone to wake the princess or the fairies asleep in her kingdom, so we’ll keep you here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

The prince’s eyes widened, “You can’t just keep me here.” He said.

“Why not?” Diaval asked.

“I’m a prince. I have duties. My kingdom needs me.”

Diaval raised his thin black eyebrows, “I guess they’ll just have to learn to do without you.” He shrugged and smiled without sympathy. He turned to walk up the staircase to his left.

A sudden rapture of fright struck the prince. He would surely die here if Diaval left him. “Are you going to leave me here to die?” he asked.

Diaval paused, turning only halfway around. ”If I was going to kill you, then I would have done so already.” He said. “You will stay here and my mother will do what she wishes with you.”

“What is she going to…” Prince Philip began, but Diaval cut him off.

“Whatever she wants.” Diaval said, flicking his wrist at the prince’s questions, obviously losing his patience. With that Diaval ascended the stairs leaving the prince with only the spiders to keep him company.


	2. Awaken

Prince Philip awoke to the ringing of metal bars. He had fallen asleep on the thin mattress of the metal bed at some point that night. He had lain awake for a long time pondering how to get out, but sleep had eventually overcome him.

“Wake up sleeping beauty.” Diaval’s patronizing voice filtered through the grogginess of his mind.

Diaval was standing behind the bars, unlike his proper attire from yesterday, this morning he wore a loose navy tunic that stopped near his knees. From there, he wore only black slippers; hair was not even visible on his legs.

Prince Philip sat up, his hair tousled and falling in his face.

“My mother wants to see you, so you need to be presentable.” Diaval said, scrutinizing the prince’s appearance. “You’ll need a bath and I brought you a change of clothes.”

Prince Philip wasn’t about to refuse fresh clothes. His old ones were damp with sweat from the day before, so he went to the bars.

Diaval unlocked the gate with a clanking of a key in the lock. The prince jealously eyed the key that Diaval slipped into a pocket on his tunic. Diaval led him in the opposite direction of the staircase and past a row of cells. As far as the prince could tell, they were empty save for a few rats.

The end of the hallway opened up to the right where a large wooden tub was next to a pump rooted into the stone ground. Diaval leaned against the wall facing the tub.

“Do you know how to use a pump?” Diaval teased.

The prince titled his chin up, “Of course, I’ve gotten water before.”

“Just checking, you Highness.” Diaval laughed.

The prince filled a few buckets and poured them into the tub. Once it was full, Prince Philip glanced back at Diaval. He hadn’t been fully naked in front of another man since he was young. Since he was royalty, he was always given privacy. Even the royal dressers had never seen him fully unclothed since then.

“Is there a problem?” Diaval smiled deviously while innocently playing with a lock of his long hair.

The prince decided in a flick to stand up to his captor, “If you don’t mind, would you give me privacy while I bathe?” he asked.

Diaval pursed his lips, glanced up at the ceiling, then turned his attention back to Prince Philip with the same smirk, “I don’t think that’s in your privilege package as a prisoner.”

“You’re going to watch me.” Prince Philip accused.

“So you don’t escape.” Diaval clarified.

Prince Philip parted his lips about to protest, before Diaval continued.

Diaval ’s obsidian eyes squinted at him, “If you don’t start bathing now, I’ll have to wash you myself,” he said.

Prince Philip accepted his loss. He’d rather lose his dignity in control of his body than have Diaval bath him, for that really would be an unpleasant experience.

He began by slipping his shirt over his head exposing his defined abs, then removed his pants and slipped into the tub.

The water was colder than he expected. At the palace, his baths were always heated and he felt goose bumps cover his arms and legs. He quickly grabbed for the cloth and soap beside the tub and scrubbed the dirt and sweat that had stuck to his skin. He took a handful of water and threw it into his hair, sticking it to his face.

Slightly shaking from the chilled water, he stood and wrapped the towel around his body. He picked up the shirt that Diaval had brought him and threw it over his head. It fit well enough and the prince briefly wondered where he got it since a garment that size would probably be too loose on Diaval ’s slim figure.

He slid the slacks under the towel and pulled them taut around his waist. They were even the right length, so they only brushed the tops of the slippers that Diaval had brought him.

“Now that you’re clean, mother might at least take pity on you,” Diaval said, leading the way back towards the prince’s cell.

When they reached his cell, he turned to face Prince Philip. “Before I forget,” he said, picking up a long pair of handcuffs that were looped over bars of his cell. The prince slowly held out his wrist and Diaval fastened one end there and the other he clamped on his own.

Diaval led the way up the stairs to the dungeon and into the interior of the palace. The walls matched Diaval’s eyes, a polished black gleam. Unlike the palaces that Prince Philip had seen, the corridors were bare of tapestry or furnishings. The prince figured that the doors along the walls were the only way to distinguish the corridors from each other.

Prince Philip tried to memorize every turn, but he doubted he would be able to navigate since the hallways and doors all looked the same to him.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the entrance to a grand dining room that finally had some accessories on the walls up until further inspection were the heads of some of the queen’s old enemies.

“Good morning mother,” Diaval said, “Your prisoner is presentable even though he did put up a fight.”

Diaval lead the prince to the end of the table, where his mother sat on a high backed chair with black horns that came out of the top and curled like a ram’s. Her hair was long and black like her son’s and it framed her face complimenting her grey skin. He wondered why her son did not share the pigment. They did both dress in dark colors, though.

Diaval turned to Prince Philip “Show your respect,” he said.

Prince Philip bent slightly at the waist lowering his eyes before Maleficent. He thought is as not permitting submissiveness, but a mutual respect for royalty.

“Sit.” Ordered Maleficent, as if speaking to a dog.

Prince Philip pulled out his chair and sat while Diaval uncuffed him from his wrist and attached it to the table.

“My son informed me that you attempted to wake Briar Rose.” Maleficent said. For an evil queen, her voice was seething, but not overpowering.

So that was her name, Briar Rose, he hadn’t known. “I didn’t even know her name before now.” The prince admitted, hoping to lessen whatever punishment the queen had in store.

“It wouldn’t matter if you had known her name.” Maleficent said. “Your crime is the same. You entered a palace that I deemed should never rise to power again.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware of that.” Prince Philip admitted.

A blond boy opened a door to the prince’s right. “My queen, dinner is ready.” He said, his voice high like a young boy, but he was tall, and looked to be about fifteen or sixteen.

“Bring it in.” Maleficent said.

The boy nodded and brought a grand platter filled with meats, vegetables and fruits. It was ornately arranged in a fashion that would make even the chef’s of the prince’s palace jealous.

The prince watched as the boy artistically cut the beast on the center platter and put it on plates in front of Maleficent and Diaval. For a brief moment, prince Philip hoped that the queen would share, but then the boy brought out a bowl of steaming gruel. Looking down at his plate, the prince wasn’t surprised.

Maleficent took a sip of wine and turned to Prince Philip. “Your foreign policy is rather weak if you do not know what lands I dislike and who I don’t care for.” She said.

“Our kingdom has been peaceful for generations, so there isn’t really a need for that.” The prince explained.

The queen raised her eyebrows. “As a prince, you should be aware of all that has happened so you will see the future before it happens.” Maleficent said.

His pride stabbed, the prince began picking through the soup although it was difficult with the chain on his wrist. It clanked when he moved and continually thudded against the long wooden table.

“For that, your punishment will be justified.”

The prince watched her wipe her mouth, a new fear accelerating his heart rate.

“There a certain spells that can only be performed with royal blood. Since I established my kingdom unnaturally, I do not possess it, but you do.” The queen continued. “Your punishment for now will be allowing me to perform those spells.”

The prince sipped the mush in silence for a moment. It tasted like bread and water, but he was too hungry and anxious to care.

“After that, you will stay in the dungeon unless I need you, until you die.” Maleficent concluded.

Although her words were grim, Prince Philip was determined to devise an escape plan. He just hoped it would come into fruition before he met his end in that cramped cell.

Prince Philip was silent as Maleficent and Diaval discussed things that he didn’t comprehend such as magic, potions and probably dangerous spells.

After they finished their meals, Diaval rose and unchained Prince Philip, fixed him to his own wrist again, bid farewell to his mother and took him back through the doors.


	3. Experimentation

On their way down a corridor, Prince Philip asked, “Why are you taking me around instead of one of your servants?”

“I couldn’t let just anyone take care of royalty, could I?” Diaval said.

“Would anyone actually harm me here?” 

“Not under my care they won’t” Diaval said.

Diaval was a pace ahead of him, so he couldn’t see his expression. Last night, he had been sure that he would be tortured and left for dead, but now they were feeding him and Diaval said that he was actually in his care. 

Diaval did not take him back to his cell, like the prince thought he would but instead lead him into a room filled with animal organs, plants in jars on shelves all around the room that was three times as large as his cell. 

Diaval lead the prince to a chair and fastened leather around his wrists and ankles, tying him tightly to the frame of the chair.

Prince Philip grunted as Diaval pulled the last one taut, “Is this really necessary?” he asked. 

“It’s not so you won’t flee. It’s to keep you still while we draw your blood.” Diaval explained. 

“Why don’t you just use your magic to freeze me then?” Prince Philip asked. 

Diaval stood up and tugged down on his tunic so it covered more of his thighs, “Magic can be tiring. Besides it’s not every day that I get to tie up a prince,” he smirked. 

“Could I use magic if I wanted to?” The prince asked. 

Diaval considered for a moment, “Humans are better left using wands, but I suppose you could do basic magic. I’m a fairy, so I have a better hold on it.” He explained. 

“Would you be willing to teach me?” Prince Philip asked.

Diaval arched an eyebrow at him, “So you could teleport out of the castle? I don’t think so.”

“Just simple things then? Like how to levitate objects or change iron into gold.” Prince Philip pleaded. 

Diaval smirked, “You’d have to be a very good prisoner for that.” He said. Prince Philip was learning to be wary of that smirk, whatever Diaval had in mind, and it wasn’t good. 

Before he could worry more about it, the queen stepped through the door and shut in softly behind her. 

“Diaval, take a few samples for me.” Maleficent said.

“Yes mother,” Diaval said, retrieving a few empty vials from the shelf as well as a needle. 

Diaval opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a needle and a vial and approached the prince. 

“Have you done this before?” the prince asked, pressing his back into the straight-backed chair. 

Diaval inserted the needle carefully into the crook of the prince’s arm. “I do this to animals and fairies often,” he assured him.

Prince Philip turned his head away; unfortunately Maleficent was in his view, which didn’t help the matter. She was watching him like he was nothing more than a beast of the fields. He could feel the pinch of blood suctioned from his arm and tried not to tense up until the needle was out and Diaval held the vial out to his mother. 

“Deposit three drops into the pot.” Maleficent instructed her son. 

Diaval did as he was told and put the other ingredients into the pot as Maleficent ordered them.

Despite the wretched ingredients the room didn’t smell of rot and death until Diaval lit a fire beneath the pot and black smoke fizzled out of it. The stench lingered hideously of carcasses, feces and plants the prince couldn’t identify. 

They kept him there while they brewed, occasionally plucking hairs from his head of swabbing her cheek. His butt was numb by the time the queen had boiled the concoction, which now rested beneath a window while two other potions sat against the wall in kettles. 

“I’m finished with you for now,” Maleficent said, shutting cupboards and putting away unused ingredients.

Diaval unlatched Prince Philip from the chair and once again chained them together. 

Upon standing, the prince could tell that along with his bottom, his right leg bristled as he stood. Diaval began to walk and the prince shifted along with him and scooted his other leg, but had to grab onto the chair in an attempt to keep his balance.

“I’m glad you’re eager to help, but we really are finished. It’s too difficult to work in this room once the sun sets.” Diaval chided him.

“My leg is asleep.” The prince explained briefly closing his eye as pinpricks covered his leg and buttocks.

He felt Diaval’s arm slide beneath his shoulder blades, “We won’t keep mother waiting” Diaval said, dragging him along. 

They made it through the doorway with Diaval holding onto the prince as pain shot through his leg. On the first step, the prince willed his hip to thump his numb foot onto the second step, but on the second step his foot went half way down before it flopped and agony gripped him as the blood rushed into his numb limb forcing his to sit down and pulling Diaval down beside him.

Bracing himself against the wall, the prince landed gracefully on the steps. Diaval had fallen into him; his body heat contrasted the coldness of his personality. The prince had never been within touching distance of a fairy before Diaval, but he had expected their body temperature to be different from his own, but with this proximity he couldn’t tell a difference. 

“I know you don’t want to go back to your cell, but this is just childish.” Diaval said, but he didn’t make a move to pull Prince Philip to his feet. 

“Like I said, I can’t feel my leg.” The prince said, rubbing his calf for emphasis.   
Diaval twisted around to sit at the prince’s feet and massaged his leg just above his ankle. 

Philip jolted and leaned back in an attempt to ward off Diaval. “What are you doing?” he asked, shocked and confused at the sudden physical contact.

“I’m just trying to make it better.” Diaval cooed, his dark hair shifted to reveal a demeaning smirk. 

“You’re not helping.” The prince said, his voice rising. He surprised himself at how aggravated he sounded. He wasn’t sure if it was more embarrassing that Diaval was treating him like a child or that he was annoyed that Diaval was touching him. His skin bristled with the thought. As royalty he was always taught never to show aggravation no matter what the situation. 

“Oh? Does his Highness not like to be touched?” Diaval teased. 

Prince Philip ignored him, “I think I can stand now.” He said. He couldn’t watch as Diaval continued to massage his leg. Diaval was helping with the flow of blood, but the prince didn’t like how far Diaval’s tunic was riding up on his legs. 

“You’re not helping.” The prince said, his voice rising. He surprised himself at how aggravated he sounded. He wasn’t sure if it was more embarrassing that Diaval was treating him like a child or that he was annoyed that Diaval was touching him. His skin bristled with the thought. It was also oddly comforting even though he was being toyed with. Nevertheless, as royalty he was always taught never to show aggravation no matter what the situation. 

“Oh? Does his Highness not like to be touched?” Diaval teased. 

Prince Philip ignored him, “I think I can stand now.” He said.

Diaval slowly pulled his hands away, his grin slithering away. 

Prince Philip stood up, now stable on his feet and he and Diaval continued their walk to his cell. Once again Prince Philip was lost, but he realized that it wasn’t that most of the corridors were similar, but also because the castle was huge.   
“How many servants live with you?” Prince Philip asked. 

“Around fifty.” Diaval answered. “We have groundkeepers, butlers and chefs as many as any royal palace.”

“Yours is the largest I’ve ever seen.” The prince said. He had seen a good number of palaces in his lifetimes, seven or eight he thought, but never one like this. “You could fit a whole village from what I’ve seen.”

Diaval breathed a chuckle, “You only asked about the servants.” He said.  
His words turned the air cold, the prince felt less alone in being hostage, but that thought did not comfort him. 

“Who else is here?” Philip asked, this time the concern hidden from his words. 

“We occasionally have guests.” He turned to see Prince Philip’s expression. “All here of their own free will, ” he added.

“You have supporters?” 

“Quite a few. They either support us or fear us, either way it doesn’t matter.”  
Relatively unaccustomed to such horrid statements, Prince Philip remained silent for the rest of their trip.


	4. Balcony

Nights and days past, but Prince Philip could not tell the difference given the only source of light was the constant burning torch. The only sign of the turning of days was when Diaval brought him food, a meal which was on par with what he had been fed with the queen. 

The door to the cellar opened once more and Diaval brought the prince another tray of the same sloshing tasteless broth. 

“Do you think I might be able to bathe again?” Prince Philip asked as Diaval set the tray down in front of him.

“Sure. I’ll bring you fresh clothes.” Diaval said and disappeared upstairs. 

The prince scooted the tray fully under the door and slurped the soup, as usual and was halfway done with the portion once Diaval returned. 

“Really, why don’t you have one of your servants doing this?” Prince Philip asked as Diaval opened the door to his cage. 

Diaval smirked, “Because I want to be the only to see you in the nude.” 

“Funny.” Philip murmured, taking the clothes from Diaval and leading the way to the tub at the far end of the room. 

He filled the tub and turned his back to Diaval as he undressed. A low sigh escaped his lips as he slipped in. Goosebumps rippled across his skin at contact with the cold water. He had slept as much as he could the past few days, trying to escape the dungeon if only in his mind. However, it had only made his restless. He longed for sunshine, if not that he just wanted to be able to take more than five steps without running into a wall. 

As he scrubbed his body clean of the filth that surrounded him, the prince asked Diaval, “When do I get to leave that cell again?”

“When the queen has a use for you.” Diaval answered, his eyes following the prince’s arms as splashed water on his face. 

Prince Philip sighed and stood up wrapping a towel around himself, “I understand that I’m your prisoner, but I can be of service. Chain me up somewhere and put me to work if that’s what it takes to get me out of here. Being down here is driving me mad.” He pleaded. 

Diaval played with the ends of his hair that glistened even in the dim light. “You’re not allowed anywhere unsupervised by me, so anything like that is out of the question.”

“I could teach you how to use a sword.” Prince Philip offered, suddenly remembering their conversation from when they first met. 

Diaval let go of his hair, “You want me to trust you with your weapon of choice?”

“I can teach you with sticks as long as they slide along each other.”

“I would like to learn, but I’m not sure if mother would approve,” Diaval admitted. 

“You should ask her. It can’t hurt. I know archery as well, if she approves of sword fighting” he said, suddenly excited about the prospect of seeing something besides grey walls and cobwebs. 

“We’ll see.” Diaval said, a small smile on his lips. Unlike his usual smirk, this one was soft which was oddly more unnerving than patronizing. 

Prince Philip changed into the new clothes Diaval had brought him. The fabric was soft against his skin. 

“I don’t think taking you out of here every once in a while would be a problem, though.” Diaval said. For the first time, the prince wondered if Diaval had actually taken an interest in him beyond being a captive, as if he were now a pet. The prince certainly did feel like one as Diaval led the way to his cage.

Locking the door, Diaval said, “I’ll go ask mother if I can show you a bit of the castle.” His words were soft as goose feathers as he turned to go upstairs.

Reluctantly the prince waited on the dusty mattress. He hated that his new clothes were already soiled by the filth he was forced to live in. 

His impatience and anticipation actually accelerated his heart. For once in his life of luxury he appreciated the simple things like the greens of grass and the dance of clouds as they faded and turned in the air. 

“Mother said that I could show you around as long as I don’t show you the exterior doors. She’s paranoid that you might escape.” Diaval said, obviously not concerned that the prince could possibly get out. 

Diaval latched the cuff to the prince’s wrist and swung the door inward to lead him up the stairs where the yellow light of afternoon shown through the high windows. The prince blinked as his eyes adjusted. 

Diaval led them at a slower pace than usual as he pointed out the various rooms, closets, bedrooms, secrets, which he winked at. This particular path led them to a veranda that Philip thought impossible for such a seemingly desolate place. 

Together they stepped onto the ledge that was surrounded by ebony bannisters that matched the chairs near them. 

“It’s the best view you’ll get that’s open to visitors.” Diaval remarked, the breeze picking up his long locks and blowing them away from his face. 

The prince stepped up to the edge to take in the grounds below. There were swirls of scarlet, hazily yellows, violets, but he couldn’t identity each flower simply from their color, since they were too high up for that. From here he could even see beyond the castle walls, although it appeared to be a drop off outside given the dark shadows past the high stone walls. 

“You must trust me.” The prince remarked, “With us cuffed together, I could jump off and kill us both.” 

Diaval’s smile hadn’t faded, “I don’t think you’re the type to commit suicide.” He said. 

To ignore further talk of his escape, the prince changed the subject, “Have I caught you in a rare good mood? I don’t think it’s usual for captors to treat their prisoners to such lovely views.” He said. 

Diaval cocked his head, “I’m not the one who’s trying to make your life miserable.” 

“Then who is?” Prince Philip asked. 

Diaval looked back over the railing, “My mother. She wanted you to stay locked up.”

The prince didn’t realize that he had been gripping the balcony tightly until his fingers loosened. “What would you do with me if it was your choice?” he asked, bewildered at the thought of him disagreeing with his mother. With the way he asked her permission and followed her orders, the prince had the impression that Diaval worshipped the ground she walked on. 

“I don’t remember the last time I was asked that.” Diaval murmured, joining the prince in leaning on the railing. “Honestly, I don’t have much more freedom than you do.” His words were carried off by the wind as they reached him. 

Diaval rested his head on his folded arms, so for once Prince Philip could see over the top of his head. “I don’t really mind. I love my mother and she has my best interest in mind. I know she does, but it would be nice if I got to make decisions for once.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Prince Philip reminded him. His blood pulsed through his veins even faster. Diaval had given him a brief hope that his guard may not be opposed to allowing him some freedom or at least better basic necessities. 

Diaval was silent, which was more exciting than if he had spoken right away. Prince Philip leaned toward him subconsciously.

“I don’t often have men my age to interact with. My mother disapproves of me engaging more than necessary with the servants. It’s always ‘look, don’t touch’ with her. It gets lonely when I’m only allowed to really speak with guests who never stay more than two weeks.” He said, his voice low and the most serious Philip had ever heard. 

“You’d want us to be friends?” Prince Philip asked, confused by how honest Diaval was being with him. 

“I’d like that.” Diaval said, “Since mother doesn’t intend on letting you go, I don’t know why we shouldn’t be. She can’t say you’re a low blood since you’re royal and she can’t complain that you’d fill my head with nonsense since she can’t say you’re not educated.” He said. 

Prince Philip had met a crossroads. Sure he didn’t want to be locked up for the rest of his life, but he’d never pictured actually being friends with Diaval. He assumed that even if he taught him skills that he’d picked up that their relationship would remain slightly tense. They were playing for opposing teams whether they liked it or not. On the other hand, maybe Diaval would learn to like him and help him escape. 

Given the prospects of leaving this wretched place, Philip found no other options, “I think I’d like that too.” His tone was low, hiding the lie, but he hoped it came off as confiding as if their conversation was taboo. To some people, it would be. 

Diaval’s head jerked to face him, the breeze blowing his hair across his face. “Seriously?” he asked. 

With his hair blowing and eyes wide, the Prince felt bad for lying to him, “Yes.” He said, but the openness of Diaval’s expression did get to him, “But mostly I just want to get out of that cell.” He said softly, hoping to lessen the pain of the truth.

Diaval’s smile faded and he was back to the man that the prince was used to seeing. “I’m fine with that.” His words were lifeless. 

Although the Prince knew he had done nothing wrong, it didn’t keep him from being upset. However, he didn’t know why a stone of guilt lay in his stomach. He was annoyed that he felt anything for Diaval, but he did understand what it was like to be a lonely prince. He had always had people by his side, but they tended to act like he was on a different level from them. He knew what it was like to want to have a friend that would treat you as an equal and that met your parent’s approval.

“Did you ask your mother if she would be opposed to me training you with as sword?” Prince Philip asked.

“I think she agreed.” Diaval said. “I was as persuasive as I could be, more than I’ve ever been.,” he admitted. A little of his previous vigor had returned to his eyes, but his smile hadn’t. “I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“Let’s pray that she agrees.” Prince Philip said. 

“Indeed.” Diaval said. He looked out over the landscape again, “If you’ve taken it enough of the outside, I should probably take you back.”

A dark cloud settled on the prince’s shoulders once again. “I doubt I’ve seen all that’s worth seeing in the castle.” He said. 

“Even if you don’t train me, I’m sure she’ll let me take you out again.” Diaval said, leading the way back into the castle. 

As Prince Philip was escorted back to the dungeon, he once again felt like Diaval’s pet.


	5. Jester

The next day, Diaval brought him the same food, wheat mushed into something that resembled soup.

“Has your mother made a decision?” Prince Philip asked as Diaval gracefully seated himself on the floor outside of the cage after passing his food underneath. 

“Not yet, but we can walk about the palace today if you want.” Diaval offered. 

“I’d love that.” Prince Philip said, hastily devouring the food, but kept his manners as to not speak with his mouth full. 

“I brought you some fresh clothes as well.” Diaval said, motioning to the stack of cloth in his lap. 

Philip smiled, relieved that Diaval didn’t seem to have hard feelings about what transpired between them. Back in his cell the night before, the only think he could think about was his botch up of that day He hated lying, but he would need Diaval’s help if he ever hoped to leave. 

After finishing his food, the prince reached through the bars to take the clothes from Diaval. 

Diaval passed the clothes to him with one arm, but grabbed his forearm with the other, trapping him there, his arm wedged between the iron bars. 

Prince Philip looked up to see Diaval’s smirk had returned. He felt like he had eaten a stone along with his soup and it had stuck there.

“I expect a show in exchange.” Diaval purred. 

The prince had really preferred the vulnerable side of Diaval he had seen yesterday and mentally kicked himself for responding incorrectly. 

He felt his cheeks heat up, “I’m only showing you what you’ll get to see since you won’t give me my privacy to change.” Prince Philip retorted.

Diaval released his arm, and the prince quickly turned away especially to hide his blush. Never in his life had a man been so forward with him. There were a few rare occasions that girls openly flirted with him, but they would always dissolve into giggles afterwards. He could feel Diaval’s eyes following his every move as he pulled on his trousers. It wasn’t even the changing in front of him that flustered him, but the fact that he knew Diaval was enjoying every second of it. 

When he turned around, Diaval pulled the gate open and locked them together once more. Prince Philip thanked the gods that the long chain didn’t force them to walk close together. 

They walked in relative silence until they reached a stairway that lead down. 

“What’s in the cellar?” Prince Philip asked. 

Diaval smirked, “It might look like the castle is perched on a hill, but most of it is carved out and accessible. It’s quite a sight.”

As the descended the torch lit stone steps, Prince Philip could see a grand hall filled with long tables and a raised stage off to the side laid out at the bottom. He had suspected that Diaval’s home was larger than his, but this moment confirmed it.

A few young men were seated in a clump at one of the long tables. As Diaval and the prince grew closer to the group, Prince Philip could see that they were probably servants. They were all fairly feminine like the one boy Philip had seen and their clothes were large on them and rather bland. 

“Taking a break?” Diaval asked, his teasing gone.

“We just finished our noon meal, Master.” The one nearest them said, his eyes wide and pleading, as he flattened his hands against the oak table. 

“If you’re finished, then get back to work.” Diaval said, forcefully but there was no malice in his voice. Prince Philip thought he could hear Maleficent in his tone.

The boys leaped up in a flurry of “Yes, Master” and “Yes, Sir.” They hurried to a door on the left at the opposite end of the hall from which Diaval and the prince had arrived 

“Was that necessary?” the prince asked, not fully disagreeing with Diaval, but testing his true intentions. 

“Mother says it’s important to keep them in line.” Diaval said without conviction. He was like a father who whipped his children even if he thought it wasn’t beneficial. 

Prince Philip puzzled over how thoroughly he followed his mother’ orders when they found more people in a room down a corridor that fit snugly under the stairs. 

“Have you come to entertain us at last?” A young man asked from within. His embellished white tunic made his golden hair shine even brighter, even in the rippling candlelight. His companions, two older men joined in his jiving.

Diaval laughed, but the prince could tell by the high pitch that it was fake. “Yes. I’ve even brought a jester.” He said, tugging on the prince’s chains. 

Prince Philip glanced at him when he was pulled forward and Diaval winked in his direction, so the others couldn’t see. 

“He’s our prisoner. We caught him trying to break in, so we let him.” Diaval said, chuckling at his own joke. He attached the other end of Prince Philip’s chain to a loop on the wall and took a seat beside the blond man. “Go on, put on a show.” He said, crossing his legs with a smirk. Prince Philip didn’t miss the reference, but he wasn’t about to take his suggestion.

“Go ahead,” the blond man urged, “I’m sure you got some remarks about his lordship.” The man joked, eyeing Diaval.

He decided that since he was trapped, he could have some fun at Diaval’s expense. 

“I have learned a few things about his highness.” Prince Philip said, drawing out the last word like how Diaval said it to him, hissing it like a snake. 

“His lordship really has it out for pretty things and I can prove it to you.” He said, looking right at Diaval, who was avoiding his eyes and instead inspecting the tips of his hair. 

“If you haven’t noticed all of his servants are dashing young men. I think he rode around one day and kidnapped them, so no one outside of the palace could be more handsome than him. He just has to be the fairest of them all.” Philip said, running his fingers through his short hair and bringing them together near his shoulder to stroke his imaginary locks. 

Diaval’s head snapped up as the men laughed. It didn’t help them since Diaval really was playing his long hair.

“If that’s not proof enough. Take me for example. I’m handsome, so he couldn’t have me out roaming.” Prince Philip served Diaval the smirk he always wore and found that Diaval was actually glaring back at him. 

His animosity fueled the prince. He actually had the upper hand on his captor for once. 

“Alternatively, he kidnaps them so he can have them for himself, if understand me.” Prince said, winking. 

The blond man couldn’t contain his laughter, “He’s got you.” He said smiling at Diaval. 

Diaval smirked back, as if the joke was ridiculous and rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you for being a wonderful audience,” the Prince said and took a ostentatious bow. After the adrenaline of poking fun at Diaval, the Prince felt a little remorse sink in. He wished he understood the way his throat tightened and his chest compressed. Maybe it was because the truths he told were a little too personal for Diaval, even though they were all observations and not secrets that Diaval had indulged the prince in. 

“Now that we’ve had a laugh, there’s something you must know, Prince Diaval.” The man with the brown beard said. 

“I’m listening,” Diaval said, sitting forward. 

“Prince Philip has been missing from his kingdom for days now. George confirmed the rumor that’s he’s not returned from his journey.” The man said. 

“Are you suggesting we try to overturn the kingdom in his absence?” Diaval asked, the absurdity of his suggestion evident in his tone. 

“That’s not the issue. We heard that he was after the alleged Princess Briar Rose. If he was crazy enough to go after her, than he might be able to wake her. If he succeeds, then he could bring back a powerful kingdom. It’s said that the whole kingdom fell asleep with her and if that’s true then he will awaken the rumored great faeries as well.” The man answered.

“I’m aware of the situation and you shouldn’t concern yourselves with it. We’ll handle the prince if he gets too close.” Diaval assured them. 

“If we could find him, we could ransom him for half the kingdom.” The young man said, banging his wine glass on the table.

“Or wipe them out of power, if they didn’t meet our terms?” The bearded man suggested. 

Diaval tilted his chin up, lips set in a frown. “The queen and I are only concerned if he actually gets close to the princess.” Diaval said. 

The blond young man examined his glass, twirling his fingers around its rim. 

“Anymore news?” Diaval asked.

“That’s all we came here to tell you.” The older man said. “We do trust you’re handling situation.”

“We are.” Diaval said. “If that’s all, then I’ll be leaving. Enjoy your stay tonight, you’re always welcome.” He turned to Philip, unchained him from the wall and led him back the way they had come. 

Once they were back up the stairs, Diaval said, “You act was rather amusing.”   
Philip glanced at him, but was unable to tell if he was serious or messing with him, “Thank you.” Prince Philip said, though it could have been a question. “Why didn’t you tell them who I was?” he asked, changing the subject.

“You heard them, they’d want to ransom you. Mother wants to be in control in every situation and outside gossip is pestering. Besides we don’t need the money” Diaval said. 

“So really your only intention is to keep me here and experiment with me?”   
Philip asked, still confused by his mother’s choice to leave him locked away. 

“and to keep you away from the princess.” Diaval confirmed. 

“Why did you let her live?” Prince Philip asked. “Wouldn’t killing her fix your problems?”

“We can’t. In her current state, she’s impervious to death since one of those faeires cast a spell to protect her and then fell asleep with her. Unfortunately the whole castle is impervious to death, so there’s no hope. The inhabitants are immovable as well. We’ve tried. Whatever spell was put on that castle was a good one. I think since the faeries are dormant as well, it increases the spell’s power.”

“If I were to wake her, then the entire castle would awaken as well?” Prince Philip asked. 

“That’s what mother thinks.” Diaval said.

“I think I understand now why she cares so much about one girl.” Prince Philip said.

“You’d be waking a possibly powerful kingdom and we can’t have that.” Diaval agreed. “Especially since that kingdom is historically our enemy.”

During the rest of their journey, Prince Philip didn’t even bother to count the doors, for he was lost in thought. He wished he’d known all of this before he had ventured out to save a princess.


	6. Game

The next morning, Diaval brought the prince food and clothes, but most importantly news.

“Mother has finally agreed to allow you to train me with a sword, but only if we don’t use real swords in practice.” Diaval told the prince while he ate. He wore a tentative smile, much more like the man the Prince had caught a glimpse while they had stood on the balcony

“That’s wonderful.” Prince Philip said. “When do you want to start?” He was just as eager as Diaval to begin lessons. It would feel great to move around freely for a while.

“Once you’re finished with your food.” Diaval said, hugging his legs to his chest, a smile pushing its way onto his face

The prince tried not to laugh at his giddiness. After he finished, the prince put on the fresh clothes, Diaval cuffed him and they headed out into the palace.

Along some corridor, Diaval opened a door to a storage closet. Miscellaneous metal workings and wooden crates were pressed against the walls leaving most of the floor open. Philip would have chosen a place outside, but there was probably enough room for them.

“I think this will do.” Diaval said. He picked up two metal rods with cloth wrapped around one end of each.  

“I doubt mother will object to these.” He said, handing one to Prince Philip. As he did the chain that linked them clanged against itself.

Diaval glanced around for a hook on the wall to chain the prince to. Prince Philip followed his gaze, but didn’t see a suitable hook either.

“Would it be alright if we just put things in front of the door? If I’m going to teach you, free range of movement would be helpful.” The prince said.

Diaval turned and eyed him, but didn’t move.

“If I try to run, you can freeze me, but trust me I’m not going to make a run for it. I wouldn’t know which way to go even if I did.” He reasoned.

Diaval considered, “As long as my mother doesn’t find out.” He said, moving a stack of wooden crates in front of the door. Philip helped and soon he was chain free and facing off against Diaval.

“Let’s start with blocking.” Prince Philip said, He held up the rod to Diaval’s left as if to slice his neck.

 Diaval raised his stick and clanged it against Prince Philip’s

to block the attack. Philip slid it to the other side of his head and Diaval parried it again. They started the slow pattern of blocking up and then Philip moved it down aiming for Diaval’s leg. Diaval blocked it once on his right side and then his left. Prince Philip began to swing the make believe blade faster, but with the same rhythmic step.

Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Repeat.

Moving through the pattern, Prince Philip shifted his feet left, forcing Diaval to turn along with him, leading him in a circle. As their mock battle continued, Prince Philip was reminded of the games he would play with the servant boys back at the castle. He smiled at the memory, making their training feel more like a game. Diaval seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyebrows pinching in concentration, but occasionally he smirked as he blocked more and more of Prince Philip’s attempts.

 Once they’d turned in a all the way back to their original positions, Philip stopped, “Now try the offensive and I’ll block.” He said.

Diaval gave him little time to raise his weapon as he started the pattern with Philip. The prince was dismayed by how quickly Diaval had picked up the art and he had to watch the fake sword with a little trepidation since he almost couldn’t keep up with the other man.

Without warning, Diaval swung the weapon down instead of the second upward shot. Philip managed to block it, but his heart tried to leap out of his chest as he had to step back to avoid it.

“Am I getting too good for you?” Diaval teased. He continued to destroy the pattern, keeping in the original spots, but not in the same order.

“You just caught me off guard.” Philip grunted, noting that the force Diaval was putting behind his blows was growing. He feared that he might have to put both hands on the weapon to keep him from getting injured.

With an exaggerated exclamation, Diaval thrust his weapon at the prince’s torso, but Prince Philip easily blocked it by bringing his rod horizontal and forcing Diaval’s upward. He leaned with all of his weight, forcing Diaval to raise his weapon closer to his face vertically

Diaval glared at him and Philip grinned back, wondering how he would get himself out of this one.

In the height of his triumph, Prince Philip felt his legs go completely numb and his strength in pushing the fake blade failed. He stepped back trying to balance, but his footing was off since he couldn’t tell where his feet were and he sank unceremoniously to the ground.

“That’s cheating.” Prince Philip grumbled.

Diaval was laughing above him, “I wasn’t about to let you win.” He said.

“It’s just practice.” Prince Philip said. “You don’t have to beat me.”

“You were getting into it too.” Diaval said.

Philip couldn’t exactly argue with that. He had enjoyed the challenge. “Maybe, but you shouldn’t be allowed to use magic. That’s not fair.”

“You know how to wield a sword better than I do. Using our own skills is fair.” Diaval said, though he didn’t seem convinced himself.

 “I’m teaching you how to use a sword. If you use magic than you have to teach it to me too.” Learning magic might be his key to getting out, but also because he was tired of Diaval being in control of him.

“Mother wouldn’t agree to that.” 

“Who’s going to tell her?” Prince Philip countered. He was willing to risk Diaval’s rage since the possibility was so close.

Diaval was watching him carefully. Prince Philip wished the spell would wear off faster. He was just starting to get feeling back in his thighs and he felt helpless on the ground.

“I suppose I could teach you basic things, but nothing that would actually be useful in a fight and certainly nothing that would aid in your escape.” Diaval said, his eyes dancing warily to the barricaded door.

 “I’ll take that. I’ve only met a handful of people who can work magic. It would be nice to know the idea behind it, even if I couldn’t do it.” Philip encouraged.

Diaval inspected the metal rod, sliding his thumb over it. “I’ll think about it.” He said finally.

Prince Philip got on his knees, but was still unable to feel his feet, so he couldn’t stand up any further. “I still say no more magic.” He said.

“Fine, I’ll agree only if you don’t attempt to harm me.”

“I wouldn’t actually hurt you. Your mother would kill me” Prince Philip said, smiling at Diaval.

“She won’t do that. She said that she still has some use for you.”

“Good.” Philip said, righting himself from his crouch, finally able to control his lower half. “Again?” he asked, extending his weapon.

Diaval launched an attack and Prince Philip blocked. Then they switched without words. Only their heavy breathing met the air. Locking themselves in a battle of iron against iron, they wrestled with each other’s capacity of sensing a move before it was made. They tested their ability to predict how a swing could be stopped before it met its mark. As they parried, their concentration and strength began to fail and they both slowed growing almost sloppy, but neither was willing to admit defeat.

Exhausted, Prince Philip took an opportune chance to back Diaval against a wall. They had been dancing around the room, so Diaval was loose enough to fall into the prince’s trap.

 “Give up,” Prince Philip huffed. His weapon was locked with Diaval’s, but he had stepped close enough for Diaval’s arm to bend, so his thrust away from his body wasn’t strong enough to the throw the prince off.

Diaval gave a breathy chuckle; a bead of sweat had run down from his forehead and on top of his cheek, which were flushed with effort. “Only if we call it a draw.” He said, equally soft and exhausted.

“Deal.” The prince said, lowering his weapon. Diaval sank to the floor and the prince joined him trying to catch his breath. 

Diaval leaned his head back, “I’m going to take a long hot bath after this.” He said.  His dark hair shone with sweat leaving it clinging to his skin.

“I wish I had that luxury.” Prince Philip said, lying down on the cold stone floor. His tunic was scratching his skin and stuck to him from the sweat.

“I might be able to arrange that as a payment for training.” Diaval said.

“If I could be paid in hot baths, a nicer place to sleep, and good food, I’d teach you anything you wanted. Archery, sword fighting, hunting, or whatever else you liked. I never really missed the comforts of the palace until they were taken from me.”

“I thought your services were free,” Diaval joked, but his usual proud smirk had faded, replaced by a softer smile either from physical exertion or the relaxed atmosphere.

“It’s nice to be out of that cell, but I’ll take more if it’s offered.” Prince Philip said. The adrenaline from their game was starting to wear off leaving him aching, but satisfied.

“Mother said you’re not allowed to have our luxuries.” Diaval said as if repeating a conversation that he’d had before, like a child retelling words a parent has spoken before asking for their meaning.

“She doesn’t have to know.” Prince Philip repeated. He was sure at some point Diaval would grow tired of his insistence to defy his mother and comply.

Diaval pulled a strand of hair between his fingers. “If she were to find out that I were being overly kind to you, things would be much worse for you. I’m surprised she’s allowed me to pamper you this much.”

“It’s like I’m a royal dog.” Prince Philip said.

 Diaval chuckled, “Should I start calling you ‘my pet’?” he asked. His words were like pattering rain. They were refreshing, but also stung the prince’s ears and he was glad that his face was still pink from exercise.

“I don’t know if that’s better or worse than calling me ‘your highness.” Prince Philip said, in the same way Diaval always did, drawing out the ‘s’ in a hiss.

“What should I call you then?” Diaval mused.

“Prince Philip.” He said, “Or, no, just call me Philip.”

“Philip,” Diaval said, testing the name, “I guess you should call me Diaval from now on.”

“Alright, Diaval.” Philip realized then that he’d never uttered his name. It was strange in his mouth and caused his heart to stir, but it sealed a pact unspoken by the absence of honorifics.

 Diaval shifted, leaning against the wall as he got to his feet. “Time for a bath,” he announced.

Philip stood, his muscles feeling the oncoming fatigue and set his weapon beside Diaval’s on the floor. Together they moved the crates aside, cuffed themselves together and Diaval led them back to the dungeon. On the way, he stopped at one of doors and emerged with fresh clothes for the Prince.

“Is that entire closet mine?” Philip asked.

Diaval scoffed, “No, it’s for all of the servants. You’re not that special, Philip.” He hesitated slightly before saying his name and with such reverence that Philip felt his previous blush return to his cheeks. Somehow Diaval made his name sound so sensual, like a waterfall.

 After they passed through the entrance to the dungeon, Philip led the way to his bath with his clothes tucked under his arm. He quickly filled the tub, stripped, and sank into the water, which did feel nice since he was so warm from practice.

 “How’s the water?” Diaval asked, kneeling beside the tub. He dipped a hand in and played with the water in his palms.

Philip curled up in the water, covering himself with legs, crossed at the shins. The tub was so small that Diaval almost touched him when he put his hand in.

 “It’s refreshing.” Philip said, quickly, unnerved by Diaval’s proximity.

 Diaval took the water in his hands and ran it through his hair leaving it shiny.

“I’m so hot in these clothes.” He said and without warning pulled his tunic over his head.

Diaval’s chest and stomach were toned, but not muscular. Even though he was a man, Philip felt the same inappropriateness of the situation as if Diaval had been a woman. He curled up tighter on himself suddenly three times more uncomfortable than the moment before. Perhaps it was the fact that like Diaval’s legs the rest of his body was devoid of hair.

“Seeing something you like?” Diaval asked, smirking as he let water dribble down his chest.

Philip’s eyes flicked up to his face, acutely aware of how he had been staring. “You’re more fit than what I would have thought.” He said, unable to admit that he thought Diaval was gorgeous. It didn’t help that his face was so feminine and his hair was longer than the average man.

“Would you mind not playing in my bath water?” Philip asked, cursing himself for how harsh it sounded.

Diaval sat back, grimacing “If you don’t want me here then hurry up so I can take my bath in my room.” He said, a light flush shown easily on his pale skin.

Philip turned and quickly slid from the tub. He yanked on his clothes ignoring the water that still clung to his skin. He passed Diaval on the way to his cell and had closed the door before Diaval had appeared in the light of the nearest torch.

Diaval locked the door without saying a word.

“Again tomorrow?” Philip asked, although he was sure that he would feel this tomorrow, he couldn’t bare the thought that he’d completely burned his chance at freedom.

Diaval nodded, his face hidden in shadows as he ascended the stairs.

 


	7. Magic

Philip slept fitfully. Each time he awoke, he prayed that Diaval’s footsteps had invaded his slumber. Behind his eyelids, he saw a crack opening in the floor. On the other side Diaval stood, wearing a hurt and betrayed expression that he saw there too often. Philip was chained to his bed and with every passing moment the crack grew wider until, to Philip’s horror, it swallowed the ground below Diaval’s feet and drug him in. Each time the vision repeated, his lips parted, but no sound would come out. 

Philip had given up on sleep when Diaval finally opened the door to the dungeon. He stood quickly and approached the cell door. 

“You’re eager.” Diaval noted, his smirk faithfully returned. 

“After last night, I wasn’t sure you were coming back.” Philip admitted. 

“Of course I was going to come back. I have to feed my pet,” He said, sliding the tray between the bars.

As Philip took the tray, he saw that Diaval had not brought him his usual gruel. On the plate was a slab of meat and a scoop of carrots and peas. He picked up the fork that had replaced it and stabbed the meat, easily slicing the pink insides with his knife. 

“I was thinking I could show you a little magic today.” Diaval said. 

The prince almost choked on his bite of meat. “I’d love that.” He said 

“We can go to my room.” Diaval suggested, “It’s in one of the turrets and my mother has the other one, so we shouldn’t cross her path.” He cuffed them together and led the way out of the dungeon and down a corridor no different from the rest. It ended in a spiral staircase, which has so many stairs that Philip had lost count of them when they reached the top. He was no longer surprised at Diaval’s physique. 

A curtain, thick purple with violet highlights served as a doorway for the entrance to Diaval’s room. Diaval slid it aside and Philip was overtaken by the beauty before him. 

The room was collage of blacks, whites and violet against the dark walls. The bed frame and wardrobe were made of a dark rich oak. Perhaps it wasn’t the appearance, but the secrecy that amazed Philip. This was Diaval’s own personal room. The pure midafternoon light filtered onto the floor and the shadows slipped away. 

Diaval cuffed Philip to one of the bedposts. Philip took the chance to sit on Diaval’s bed. The bedding was soft and it had four dark posts that led into a purple canopy. Philip had the urge to curl up on the throw, but thought better of it. 

Behind him, he felt the cushions sink as Diaval settled onto the bed. 

Diaval was hovering a small pebble a few inches from his palm. “You mentioned levitation once, so I thought I’d show you that.” He said, concentrating on it as it floated before letting it drop back into his hand.

Diaval looked up at him, now the teacher and once again in a position of power. “The trick is to manipulate the energy around it. Energy manipulation is the basis of a lot of magic. Most humans can manipulate it enough to levitate pebbles and small objects, but only a few can do more than that without the aid of a wand.”

Diaval leaned forward and placed the pebble in Philip’s palm. 

“Feel the energy around it.” Diaval instructed. 

Philip held the cold stone in his hand and stared at it, expecting something more. “What does energy feel like?” he asked. 

Diaval blinked at him, “Maybe this is too difficult to start out with.” He took the pebble from Philip and set it beside him on the bed. He held up his hand, palm facing Philip. “Bring your hand close to mine.” 

Philip did as he was instructed, leaving about four inches between them. He could feel the heat of Diaval’s body rippling through the air and he felt something else. It was so odd that he thought he might be imagining it. There was a force between them that pulsed back and forth. It reminded Philip of magnetite that a traveler had brought by the palace once, except this energy had no polarity. It was almost like a living creature, slithering and bumping into each of them. 

“Do you feel it?” Diaval breathed, as if not to scare away the wisp between their palms.

“It’s like the air is alive.” The prince said, meeting Diaval’s eyes. 

“Right.” Diaval said, smiling softly. He moved his hand forward and back from Philip’s. He could feel the air moving, but also the strength of the energy between them. The creature between them gaining strength when they were close and falling faint when they separated. 

Diaval removed his hand and gave Philip back the stone. “Try again.” He said. 

Philip took the pebble in his palm and placed his other hand on top of it as far as he had from Diaval’s. He could feel the energy radiated across his skin, especially strong in his palms. 

“Close your eyes and just focus on the energy.” Diaval suggested. 

Philip did as he was told. Without his vision, he was not only more aware of his task, but also the room around him. A breeze trickled through the windows, gracing his skin. His breathing met the calmness of the air, allowing his senses to heighten to the magic. He’d never experienced anything like this before, nor did he ever think it was possible. He was sitting in the bedroom of the son of an evil queen playing with magic and he was content about it. 

That thought struck him so hard that the pressure between his palms seemed unimportant. He shouldn’t be content. He should be trying to escape. How did he so easily lose sight of his goal? 

He fluttered his eyes just enough to see that Diaval’s head was down. Philip took the chance to open his eyes and look at him. 

Diaval’s eyes were closed and he was swirling his hands around each other, palms inward. His features were so calm that he could have been asleep if not for the movement of his hands. 

Philip reminded himself that his current bliss was just a means to an end. He slowed his breathing, stabilizing his inhales and exhales, and quieted his thoughts, focusing only on lifting the pebble. 

He stayed like that, keeping to the mediation until he thought the pebble’s weight has lessened in his palm. Then he peeled open his eyes and saw that the pebble was raised slightly above his open hand. 

“It’s levitating.” He announced loudly startling Diaval, who at some point had laid down on the bed without the prince’s notice. 

“Good.” Diaval grumbled, sitting up and swiping at his eyes to ward off the sleep. 

“I guess that’s all for today.” Philip said, noticing the every color in the room was a shade darker. 

“That’s probably best.” Diaval said, rolling off the bed and arching his back like a cat that had sat still for too long. 

“You could have left if you were bored.” Philip said, as Diaval unchained him from the bed.

“Can’t let you out of my sight, remember?” Diaval said, dryly  
.   
Philip smiled despite himself, “You were asleep.”

Diaval’s eyes widened, still glossy from his nap, “I didn’t mean to be. I didn’t think it would take you so long to levitate that thing.” 

“You said yourself that humans weren’t great at magic.” Philip accused. He was already a little irked by how fast Diaval had learned to fight and chalked it up to being a different species. He wouldn’t be beat if he had a fair advantage. 

“I thought that princes were above the average man.” Diaval mused, slowly leaning against the bed. 

“Or fairies are just better at magic.” He countered. 

“We’re better at a lot of things.” Diaval smirked, tilting his head back.

“As in?” Philip asked. 

Diaval sat up and leaned in slowly, “We’re better kissers.” He purred, batting his long lashes. 

Philip leaned back, his heart sent racing by his sudden closeness. “You’re not proving that to me.” He said, his words flying out wildly, escaping before Diaval had the chance to move in. 

Diaval sat back, pouting and slid off of the bed. “You’re going back to your cage, pet.” He said, playfully yanking on their connecting chain. 

In the fading light, Diaval led him through the hallways cast in light from candles. He left him for the night in his cell with the words “sweet dreams.”


	8. Climbing

Unfortunately Diaval’s well wishes were for naught, for the prince was once again plagued with nightmares of Diaval falling between the cracks in the earth. 

He was awake again and even more agitated from lack of sleep than the day prior when Diaval arrived the next morning with his food. 

“You’re going to like this more than anything” Diaval said, sliding the tray beneath the bars. 

Philip took a bite of the meat in front of him. It was tender and flavorful, but he couldn’t place what it was. “I like it, but more than anything I’d like to go outside. I miss the open air and sunlight” He said, aggravated from lack of sleep. 

“It’s sheep,” Diaval said, ignoring his comment. 

“I could teach you how to use a bow and arrow.” Philip said. “We’ll need to be outdoors with that.” 

“My mother wouldn’t approve of you having a weapon.” Diaval stated. 

Philip set down his engraved fork, “Then what about going outdoors chained together? How mad would she be if she found out?”

“Very”

“She doesn’t approve of this food.” Philip pointed out, “Is there anything I can do to convince you to let me walk around outside?”

Diaval gracefully joined him on the floor on the opposite side of the bars. “There might be one thing,” he said, his treacherous smirk returned. 

“I’m listening.” 

“Let me prove to you that fairies are better kissers and we can walk around outside as much as you wish today.”

Philip sighed into his potato. He could have guessed that would have been Diaval’s answer. Although once he had committed himself to feeling the sunlight on his skin, he was too determined to back down. He had kissed girls before. This couldn’t be that much different. 

“Fine,” Philip said, looking straight into Diaval’s eyes, “I’ll kiss you, but we have to be outside the entire day.”

Diaval’s head tilted, “I didn’t think you would take my offer,” he admitted. 

“I did.” Philip replied, not wanting to be played after agreeing to one of Diaval’s advances. 

“My mother really won’t be pleased if she catches us and I can assure you that your punishment will be worse than mine.”

“If you want me to kiss you, I get to go outside.” Philip said, firmly holding onto his desire. 

Diaval scoffed, “finish your food, then I’ll decide.”

Philip hastily gulped down all of the potatoes, meat and vegetables on his plate, though he regretted the potatoes since were recently cooked and burnt his tongue. He stood up and looked at Diaval, expectantly. 

Diaval pursed his lips, “I’ve decided that you can go outside if you kiss me, but just for a few hours and we have to go into the forest on the castle grounds, so no one can see us. 

“You have a deal,” Philip said. 

His cage unlocked with a chink and Diaval stepped in fast, backing Philip into the wall with one arm up and blocking his exit. 

“Try your best to prove your species isn’t inferior.” Diaval teased, his eyes gleaming. 

Diaval leaned forward and pecked their lips together. Philip felt a tinge of electricity as they connected. A ripple flitted from his lips to the tips of his toes. He let Diaval move in again and slide his tongue along his bottom lip. 

Philip resisted reaching out and pulling Diaval closer. He hadn’t realize how starved he had been for human contact or how lonely he had become. Maybe it was the result of the nightmares that plagued him. Whatever the reason, he wanted Diaval to continue and hated himself for it. He had a princess that he was destined to be with, but instead he was enjoying kissing his captor. 

When Diaval finally removed his tongue from Philip’s mouth, Philip slid his hands to Diaval’s chest, keeping him back. 

“You kissed me. Now take me outside.” Philip demanded, regaining his breath.

Diaval’s face was pink as the same smirk that tainted his lips, “Yes, your highness.” He purred and shackled them together. 

Diaval led them out and down a corridor before opening a door that lead to a candle lit stairwell. Their steps echoed off its walls until the door behind them could be pinched between their fingers if they turned around. The stair well led to a door with sunlight peering beneath its frame. 

“Here we are.” Diaval said, pressing the handle and revealing a wide green landscape that melted into trees. 

Philip stepped out behind him, relishing in the soft grass beneath his boots. The evergreen trees before him were the most marvelous trees he had ever seen. He lost himself momentarily in the whispering of the wind as Diaval led them to towards the forest. 

Philip allowed himself to be tugged as he turned to the castle, which cast a heavy shadow over everything around it. He realized now that they had actually come out of the side of the hill where it rested and that his prison was monstrous. 

He was still in marvel at the huge structure that was home to so few people, when Diaval called to him. 

“You don’t have time to gawk. We need to hide in the forest, so no one sees us from inside.” He said. 

Philip’s lack of rest was so far hidden in his mind that he’d forgotten everything from earlier that morning. “It’s been too long since I’ve been outside. I haven’t heard a bird in ages. “ he said, trotting to Diaval’s side. 

“How about shooting a bird?” Diaval asked, his face still flushed from the kiss. 

“Do you have a bow?” Philip asked. 

“I think there’s a shed around here somewhere that houses them. I know a few of the servant enjoy the sport.”

“You let them outside?” Philip asked, thinking they also suffered the same fate as him. 

“They’re servants, not slaves. They’re allowed to go where they want once they’ve finished their work. Luckily that won’t be for a few hours, so we have until then to be out here. I wouldn’t trust them not to tell my mother.” Diaval said. 

They tromped through the underbrush that was wild and climbing in some places, and moved further from the palace in search of the shed.

“Is there a fence somewhere? How far can we get from the castle?” Philip asked, concerned that their target was somewhere far behind them. 

Diaval cocked his head to the side and halted. “We own a lot of land.” He said slowly. 

“I was just thinking that we missed the shed.” Philip said, realizing that Diaval’s answer might lead him to an easier path of escape. 

“We might have. I don’t often come out here.” Diaval admitted. He turned, but veered to the left of where they had entered the woods and Philip followed.

Their boots broke through more underbrush until Philip’s feet began to ache, but neither had seen any building. 

“We should be seeing the castle from here.” Diaval said, pulling a piece of his obsidian hair around and twisting it between his fingers.

“I thought we were walking parallel to the castle.” Philip pointed out. 

“We’re walking towards it.” Diaval said. He squinted at Philip, continuously playing with his hair. 

A tinge of concern awakened inside him. “Maybe I should climb a tree and see where we are.” Philip suggested. 

“I doubt we’re lost.” Diaval said, but he whipped his head back and forth as he scanned his surroundings, which wasn’t convincing Philip. 

“I’ve climbed trees like this before. They have fairly sturdy branches.” Philip said, demonstrating by tugging on a low limb. As he did, the chain linking them clinked. “I can’t climb very far if I’m wearing this” he noted.

Diaval sighed, “Then I guess we’re going up together.” 

“It’ll tangle in the branches.” Philip said. 

“We’ll make it work,” Diaval said, grabbing onto a branch on the same tree as Philip.

Philip pulled himself up, thoughtful of their link, which was already clanking against every limb it could find. They managed to find three more footholds before, as Philip had feared, the chain was caught on a branch and no amount of jostling it would free it. 

“Can we take it off now?” Philip asked. 

Diaval peered at him from the other side of tree, “You’ll try to run away.” He stated.

“I don’t even know which way to go” Philip pointed out. They weren’t high enough to see above the trees in any direction. 

Diaval glanced from Philip to their chain, “Fine, but I’m still going up with you.” He said. He took off the chain from his own wrist and reached around to take off Philip’s. 

Diaval dropped the chain, “I won’t forgive you if you try to run.” He said. 

“Understood,” Philip said and reached up for the next branch. 

He had gotten up four more limbs before he could see through the canopy of the trees. “The castle’s behind you,” he told Diaval, whose foot was close to his hand since the tree’s girth had thinned with its height. 

“Good, now we can get down.” Diaval said, but he’d only managed to move one foot to a lower branch before a sharp snap caught Philip’s attention. 

Philip watched as Diaval’s hands lost their purchase. Reacting on instinct, Philip launched himself sideways to grab for Diaval, but he quickly found himself underneath him as they crashed down through another set of branches. Finally Diaval rested on top of him with Philip’s arm around his waist.

Closings his eyes to avoid looking down, Philip asked, “Are you alright?”

“Just get me down from this cursed tree,” Diaval said, his trembling body sending vibrations over Philip. 

“Grab onto that branch.” Philip instructed and Diaval followed his suggestions. Philip kept a hand out for Diaval as they slowly disembarked. Once Diaval’s feet were on the ground, he collapsed into a ball, bracing himself against the tree’s trunk. 

“Are you hurt?” Philip asked, kneeling beside him and lightly touching his shoulder. Philip could feel his heart thudding against his ribcage, adrenaline raging through him. 

“I’m fine. I just need to rest.” He said, his breathing coming in gasps as he continued to shiver. His dark hair hung in front of his face, so if he was crying Philip couldn’t tell. 

Philip spread his legs out to Diaval’s side, protecting him from any unseen enemies. He helplessly rubbed the young man’s shoulders, wanting to help, but not knowing how to soothe him. 

They stayed there until Diaval stopped shaking and he looked up. Diaval parted his lips like he was about to speak, but then bent forward and wrapped his arms around Philip’s neck.

“Why didn’t you run?” he whispered in his ear.

The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. 

“I couldn’t leave you.” Philip said. He sat there like a doll, unable to push Diaval away, but not furthering their embrace. 

“I don’t want you to.” 

Although it made sense in context, it felt and sounded more like a love confession. There was deeper need than just to please his mother as Philip’s guard. Diaval’s arms were warm and tight around Philip’s neck and his body was pressed tenderly against him. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He should have sounded like a victim, resigned and trapped like he was, but the words gave themselves more meaning when they matched Diaval’s tone. Philip surrendered himself to the thought that he couldn’t leave Diaval’s side. 

A breeze ruflled their hair and birds called and responded to each other before Diaval broke their embrace. 

“Since, we’ll have to get you a new chain, can we go back to the castle for today? I promise we can come back in a few days.” Diaval said. 

“We can only if we can duel once we’re back.” Philip said, trying to throw Diaval’s signature smirk back at him. 

“Deal,” Diaval said, the soft kitten smile returned. Diaval stood and offered his hand to Philip. Philip accepted it, but he didn’t get released because Diaval linked their arms together.

“Just so you don’t try to run,” Diaval said and turned towards where the castle should be if memory served correct.


	9. Dance

As promised the next few days were spent dueling and working on magic. Dueling with their fake swords left them both exhausted, but Diaval grew impatient teaching Philip magic. It was a delicate process of finding the balance between the two much like their interactions with each other. Through their squabbles, Diaval managed to move closer or touch Philip during each lesson and Philip often didn’t pull away. He let himself be captured in more ways by Diaval than he had imagined.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________

One morning, Philip waited anxiously for Diaval to bring their lunch. He’d taken to eating with Philip inside his cell over time. Although there was no real indicator of time, Philip could tell that Diaval was later than usual that day by the way his stomach angrily growled at him. 

Right before Philip decided that he had mistaken the middle of the night for morning, the door to the dungeon flew open. 

Diaval’s scowl looked more menacing in the torchlight as he brought a tray for both himself and Philip. They clattered to the floor as he dropped to sit against the stone wall inside Philip’s cage.

“Something wrong?” Philip asked, joining Diaval on the wall. 

“Wrong? Something is always wrong.” Diaval said, leaning his head back. “She caught me bringing food to you this morning and lectured me that you were still a prisoner. I asked what the harm was, but she wouldn’t stop saying that I shouldn’t be treating you as my equal.” Diaval huffed. “That’s what I don’t understand. She doesn’t approve of you and I just don’t get it”

“I suppose it’s the principle of the matter.” Philip offered. 

“But you’re a prince,” Diaval argued. “Who am I suited to befriend if not a prince? We’re of equal rank.”

“Does she have something against humans?” Philip asked. 

Diaval barked a short laugh, “I think she has something against everyone.”

“Not you,” Philip amended. 

“You’re bluffing,” Diaval said. “She tolerates me. I can never do anything well enough to her liking.”

“You excel at magic.”

“I’m not on her level.”

“You’re good at dealing with political matters.”

“She would do that, but most people don’t like her presence.” 

Lost for words, Philip slipped his arm around Diaval’s back and in response Diaval rested his head on Philip’s shoulder.

They stayed like that with Philip’s thumb stroking Diaval’s shoulder. The ordeal reminded him of when he had fights with his parents and would slip out of the castle to the horse stable. He would climb a rickety latter to the loft and stay there for hours telling his problems to the horses. 

“Is there any place you liked to hide when you were a kid?” Philip asked. 

Diaval sighed, his shoulder rubbing against Philip’s. “There was part of the cellar that I liked, but mother eventually told me I wasn’t allowed there. Not that that’s surprising.” 

“We should go there,” Philip said. “After we eat,” he added.

“Sure. I’ve given up on pleasing her today.” Diaval agreed, sliding to tray towards him and shoveling the food into his mouth. 

Philip joined him with as much gusto and once they were done, they stood. Philip expected them to be chained together, but instead Diaval looped their arms and tugged him the other way.

“I said I was done pleasing her,” Diaval reiterated, pulling Philip out the door with only their arms linking them together. 

Philip thought he meant the servant’s quarters in reference to the cellar, but it was obvious once Diaval opened a door with downward steps, that this place was different. They reached the end of the stairs, which opened into a room filled with wine bottles and an assortment of wooden chests. 

“There’s more to it than this,” Diaval said with an impish grin. “This hall leads to some fairly valuable things.” He said, pressing a finger to his lips as he led them down the corridor. 

Philip thought of the treasure room in his palace that glistened with gems and gold when he entered. In comparison this room was quite a disappointment. There were more unadorned chests and not even wine bottles. He figured if the castle were ever seized no one would think to look here. 

Diaval thrust a handful of items into his arms “I used to dress up in stuff in here all the time.” He said, returning to the chest he was digging through. 

Philip held up the garment in his hand and allowed the bottom of it to drop to the floor. The cape was traced with covered with black and orange fur that meshed and blended and stood out in places. There was also a black hood that came down to his eyebrows when he threw the cape around his shoulders. 

“This fits better than I remember,” Diaval said, twirling around in purple cape. The golden sapphire filled crown on his head staying perfectly in place as he spun.

“When was the last time you were down here?” Philip asked. 

“It’s been years, but I’m not sure how long. My life here is fairly steady.” Diaval mused. “Until you came along,” he added, the kitten smile returned. 

Philip chuckled and pulled the cape tighter around him, encasing himself in its warmth. This whole excursion was reminding him more of his home palace and he missed it, especially the grand balls where he often got to dress up in formal and fun attire. 

“I wish I knew how to properly dance. I got a few lessons from a man passing by years ago, but that’s it. We don’t have dances here, so it was never a priority.” Diaval said, ceasing his turns. 

“Every prince should know how to dance.” 

Diaval took one of Philip’s hands in his and placed the other on his waist, “then teach me,” he purred. 

Philip obliged in holding onto Diaval’s waist, “Follow my lead,” he said. He stepped forward and Diaval stepped back. He led Diaval in a simple waltz pattern to which Diaval quickly caught on. 

As they spun around, their pace quickened. Philip released Diaval’s waist, lifted his arm and Diaval followed flawlessly in a spin underneath his arm. Then they were right back to the cadence. 

Philip was mesmerized, both by how fast Diaval learned and by how easily they moved together. Just like their sword matches, each could read the others movements. Their rhythm was exactly matched to each other’s music and every twist and curve fit perfectly. 

Over the past few days, Philip had seen magic, but this he considered the most magical thing of all. He wanted to stay like this, playing pretend in Diaval’s arms, for as long as he could. He would do it forever if he could. 

Forever he would be stuck here. He would never meet his true love. It occurred to him, but didn’t concern him. In this cellar, the only focus he could have was his and Diaval’s footsteps.

Eventually he slowed their pace and Diaval matched him. Then when the rhythm was meandering, Diaval slipped his hand out of Philip’s and wrapped both around his waist. 

“Thank you,” Diaval said.

Philip wrapped his arms around Diaval and rested his chin on Diaval’s shoulder. He could feel it lift and fall with each of his breaths. 

“Any time,” Philip said. 

“I think I’m ready for something even more reckless.” 

“What’s that?”

“I want to see the stars with you,” Diaval said, pulling back to see Philip’s face. 

“On the balcony?” 

“Even more reckless, from outside the palace.” Diaval smirked. 

Philip grinned and released him to take off the cape. He handed it to Diaval and he put it back in the trunk. 

Diaval looped their arms together as he dragged Philip to another door that lead them down a dimly lit corridor. Philip stumbled occasionally on the uneven ground, but they found the end, which lead them outside. 

Diaval laid down in the grass and Philip joined him, falling clumsily at his side. They must have been in front of the castle because no trees blocked their view. The clouds had left the twinkling of hundreds of stars. 

“Whenever I see the stars like this, I feel like I’m looking into the future, like anything could happen.” Philip said, mesmerized by the lights in the sky. 

“What do you want to happen?” asked Diaval.

“I want to be free.” Philip said. 

“Maybe I want that as well.” Diaval said. 

Philip turned to look at him in the moonlight. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could both be out of this castle?” he whispered, barely above the crickets. 

“I don’t know if that’s possible.” Diaval said, staring straight ahead at the stars. 

“Do you want it to be?” Philip asked. 

Diaval didn’t respond for a moment. “I know I want to be with you. That’s all I know.” 

Philip could hear his pulse in his ears. Hearing Diaval’s words made him realize that he felt the same. With their abilities, they complimented each other so nicely and he hated to admit it, but he did treasure the time that he’d spent with Diaval. 

“I feel the same.” He said, like he was confessing his love. “I want to be free with you.”

Diaval rolled on his side to face Philip, “Are you certain that you feel exactly the same?” He said.

Before Philip could ask what he meant, a chilling voice spoke from higher on the hill.

“Diaval, I thought I said not to allow prisoners outside,” Maleficent haunting voice pierced the night air, turning their fervent discussion into ice that crashed down around them. 

Diaval reacted faster than lightning. “I’m sorry my queen, but the stars look so lovely tonight and I didn’t want to be out here alone.” 

Philip thought his heart would overwork itself as he stood beside Diaval. Queen Maleficent was shrouded in the moon’s shadow. 

“I’m finished with hearing your excuses. I see now that I’ve given you far too much leniency since you think you can break my rules. Take him to his cell and then come immediately to my room. Is that understood?’ she asked. 

“Yes mother,” Diaval said, his hair hiding his face from Philip’s view. A dark surge of anger flooded him by how much control she exerted over her son. 

Maleficent turned, gliding along the grass and back up the pathway to the castle. 

Philip waited for Diaval to move, but he was as still as the night. 

“Diaval,” Philip said, reaching for his hand. Diaval snatched his hand from Philip’s reach and stomped off back towards the palace. 

I’ll be back down to see you after I speak to her.” He said, his tone as passionate as Maleficent’s was calm. “Don’t say anything until then.” He warned. Philip had to struggle to keep up with him on the stairs that Maleficent had previously descended. 

Philip nearly jogged as Diaval led him down the hallways to his cell. Once there, Diaval closed the door to his cell, but didn’t lock it. 

Philip watched him ascend the stairs and winced as the door slammed behind him. Philip laced his fingers around the bars and gripped them until his hands shook with the effort. He hated Maleficent. She was the dragon who had trapped the princess.


	10. Facing the Dragon

Philip was pacing the floor, taking only five steps before turning around, when Diaval finally emerged. 

His boots slapped the stairs as he ran to Philip’s cell. “I can’t believe her.” He said as he approached. His voice trembled and his chin quivered along with it. 

Philip was back at the door in an instant. “What’d she say?” he asked. 

Diaval swung inside and pulled the door shut behind him. His eyes were moist as he spoke, “She’s going to kill Briar Rose and her kingdom. Then she’s going to kill you.” He said. His mouth pulled into a horrific grimace that threatened to tear out Philip’s heart from his agony. 

“How is she going to wake them?” Philip asked, grabbing Diaval’s wrists to keep him from trembling. 

“She thinks she can do it with one of those potions she made from your blood.” He said, “She fairly certain of it.” Diaval stepped forward as slid his arms around Philip waist, burying his face in the prince’s shoulder.

Even though he so often got called a pet, Diaval was the scared kitten in this scenario. The sudden change in roles was more frightening than empowering. 

“While you were gone, I thought of something.” Philip said, lightly stroking Diaval’s back. “Diaval, you should marry me.” 

Diaval pulled back, his eyes wildly scanning the prince’s face, “How would that work?” he asked.

“With your magic, you can fool everyone into thinking that you’re Briar Rose. Then we can rule my kingdom together. How can your mother oppose that proposition?” he asked. 

Diaval’s head tilted to the side, “I think she might agree, but are you really suggesting that we wed?”

“We could both be free, me from this prison and you from your mother.” Philip said. He had had been thinking it through ever since Diaval had left. 

“You’d be handing your kingdom over to her.” Diaval argued.

“You don’t have to listen to what she says. I need to get out of here and you said that you wanted to leave too. If she agrees, then maybe I can stop her from killing Briar Rose as a bargain.” Philip slid back to grip Diaval’s shoulders, “If you have any other ideas, then I’d love to hear them because I can’t think of another way out of this.”

Diaval’s eyes slid from the prince’s face, “Why would you throw your kingdom away like that?” he asked. 

Philip breathing composed, “As long as you don’t listen to your mother, then things will be fine.”

“Even if I do” Diaval began, “You’d be marrying me.” He finished. His voice was soft almost distant. 

“Yes” Philip said, “That’s my plan.”

Diaval finally looked back up, “Should I take that as an answer to our earlier discussion?” he asked. His eyes looked like he was asking if he had to step on glass without shoes.

“What was the question?” Philip asked. He’d been too focused on solving his problems that he’d forgotten their previous happiness in the dark. 

“Do you feel that way about me?” Diaval asked. “That is, do you like me?” 

The cell walls slipped away. The bars escaped his notice. There was nothing in that moment, but the man in his arms and even he might slip away if Philip didn’t speak carefully. 

“I love you like a brother.” Philip said. 

The warmth of Diaval’s arms left his side, “That’s what I thought.” Diaval murmured. 

At the loss of sensation, Philip blurted out, “Perhaps I do feel more for you. I don’t know, Diaval. Briar Rose is my true love.” His hands tightened on Diaval’s bony shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to reason this out.”

Diaval took the prince’s wrists in his hands and removed them from his shoulders. Instead of letting them go, he threaded their fingers together. “I guess that’s the best I can ask for.” He said, his long black hair obscuring his features. 

Philip squeezed Diaval’s fingers, the room slowly regaining its features. “Then can we speak to your mother tonight? I don’t think I can bear to wait knowing she could destroy a kingdom if I don’t act.”

Diaval nodded and reached for the cuffs. He picked them up, but then put them right back down. “We don’t need these.” He said, still holding one of Philip’s hands as he opened the door, led them out of the cell and towards Maleficent’s tower. 

They passed corridors that Philip knew he had never seen on the way to the opposite turret of Diaval’s. The stairs wound up to a grand purple wooden door with designs of such intricacy that Philip admired the carpenter as Diaval knocked on the door. 

A boy, of about fourteen answered the door, and upon seeing the two, called behind, “My queen, the prince and his prisoner are here to see you.” 

Maleficent, in a sleeping gown of light purple with green trim came to the door, her ink black hair elegantly flowing midway down her stomach. 

“Diaval, what is the meaning of this?” she asked, moving aside to let them into the room. 

“Philip asked me to marry him in exchange of Briar Rose’s safety.” Diaval blurted, his hand still gripping Philip’s. 

Maleficent’s obsidian eyes that matched his slid to Philip, “Is this true?” she asked.

“Yes” Philip said, “He can share my kingdom as long as you do not awaken Briar Rose.” He added, “your highness.” 

Maleficent blinked her long dark lashes at him, “I suppose my son would pose as a female for this to work.” She mused.

“Yes. He could be the awakened Briar Rose in her stead” Philip said. He focused only on her face to avoid the rush of terror that was seeking to devour him if he let it. 

Maleficent smiled, as much as he had ever seen, just the slight upturn of her lips. In the light of her candle lit chamber, her smile made her more devilish than he had ever seen her. “I will agree to your proposal. If you marry my son, then I will not awaken Briar Rose.”

She held out her long fingered hand to him and he took it. “You have my word.” She said. 

“And you mine.” He replied, firmly shaking her hand. Relief flowed through him. He hadn’t thought this would go so smoothly. 

With the finalization of their agreement, Philip and Diaval exited her chamber and strode down the halls to the dungeon with their hands clasped, swinging between them. 

“I really don’t want to go up those tower stairs tonight.” Diaval whined, as he walked Philip to his cell. 

“You could stay here tonight.” Philip offered, once inside. He was half delusional with ecstasy that his plan had worked that he would have kissed Diaval if he asked. 

Diaval squinted at him in the light of the flame on the wall, “Can we both fit on that bed?” he asked. 

Philip responded by scooting as far back on the bed as he could, grinning at Diaval. 

Diaval hesitantly strode over and lay down beside him. He edged backwards until his back was pressed against Philip’s chest. 

Philip looped his arm around Diaval’s waist, securing him to the bed and laying out his other arm for Diaval to use as a pillow. 

“Sleep well, Philip,” Diaval said, taking the prince’s hand into his own.

“Goodnight, Diaval.” Philip said. He could feel every rustle of Diaval’s body. He was comforted by the way their legs tangled and Diaval’s scent of honey and spring grass. He eventually drifted off to Diaval’s even breathing that matched his own.


	11. Rings

Philip adjusted the white formal wear that Diaval had pulled from somewhere. He was sitting on Diaval’s bed, waiting for his soon to be spouse to finish dressing, so they could walk to meet the priest who would wed them. 

“Are you almost ready?” he asked, turning to peer into the washroom where Diaval was putting on suitable attire. 

“I look ridiculous.” Diaval grumbled from behind the cloth curtain. 

“I’m sure your mother will be happy.” 

The curtain flew open to reveal Diaval in a floor length black gown. Tiny beads circled on it and matched the shine in his eyes. If Philip didn’t know what was beneath it, he would have been fooled that Diaval was a woman. 

“You look magnificent.” Philip offered. 

Diaval crossed his arms over the chest of his dress that bulged from being stuffed. “I don’t know why mother said I should wear this. No one will be there but a few servants, her and the priest.”

“It could be to fool the priest.” Philip said. He stood, his fine boots tapping the floor as he brushed his fingertips over Diaval’s shoulders and rested his hands there. “Really, you look beautiful.” He said, smoothly slipping a piece of glossy black hair between his thumb and forefinger. 

Diaval’s lips parted, eyes wide at Philip. Then he shut down again, cutting his eyes to the side. “Wearing a dress doesn’t make me a princess.” He said. 

Philip kept his hand there only a second longer before dropping his arm to the sides. He couldn’t think of anything to say as Diaval strode gracefully to the tapestry that served as the door to his room. 

“Shall we?” Diaval asked, pushing the tapestry aside.

Philip stepped beside him and offered his arm, in hopes to retrieve some of the loveliness of what a wedding day should be. “After you,” he said. 

Diaval took his arm and they tightened their grip on each other as they ascended the grand tower stairs and out to the garden with Diaval occasionally cursing his slippers for pinching his feet. 

The flowers were in full bloom and even more gorgeous up close. Across the palace’s lawn was the priest with the wicked queen dressed in a flowing violet gown and all of the servant boys, dressed almost as elegantly as Philip. 

Philip held onto Diaval’s hands as the priest read them their vows to which they both said “I do.” 

These rings represent your promise to each other.” The priest said, holding out the silver rings, encrusted with purple gems that shone in the late afternoon sun. He held the pillow they resided on to Philip. 

Philip took one and slipped it onto Diaval’s thin finger. Buried inside him was a voice screaming that he shouldn’t be tying himself for life to the son of an evil fairie, but that sound was drowned by his pounding heart, beating to the thought of being with Diaval, the man he cared for as much as his own life. 

Diaval took the second ring as slid it on Philip’s finger. It fit snugly, the cold metal a sharp contrast to the warmth of Diaval’s hands. 

“By the power appointed to me by the gods, I pronounce you husband and wife.” The priest announced, and closed his book with a thick thud. 

Diaval smiled widely at Philip and Philip returned it. 

“Once you’re out of your evening wear, we’ll have a feast in the main hall.” Maleficent instructed all in attendance. 

Philip slipped his arm once more through Diaval’s as they ascended the palace’s outer stairs and up to Diaval’s room in the turret. 

Once they were behind the tapestry, Diaval stopped and whirled on Philip, “Isn’t it customary for the wedded couple to kiss?” he asked. 

Philip heard the disappointment in Diaval’s voice. “That is typical.” He said. 

Diaval closed the gap between them, his hands resting lightly on Philip’s chest. “Will you kiss me?” he asked, his obsidian eyes glowing. 

Philip wondered if Diaval could feel his fluttering heart. The ring caught the light, reminding Philip of the commitment he had already made. He was past the point of no return. Philip reached up to touch Diaval’s cheek and brushed his thumb across his soft skin. Their eyes connected and Philip leaned in to gently touch their lips. 

Diaval hands slid up around Philip’s neck and ran through his hair, closing the gap between them. Philip lost control as Diaval parted his lips and nibbled on Philip’s bottom lip. 

Philip allowed Diaval to kiss him until he pulled back to take a breath, so Philip could relinquish his hold. 

“I’ll admit that was some kiss.” Philip said, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. 

“I told you faeries were better kissers.” Diaval taunted with a smirk. He twirled and he disappeared behind the curtain. 

Philip smiled after him before he put on the blue tunic that was laid out on the bed for him. Pulling it over his head, Diaval’s lips were anchored in his thoughts. He really couldn’t tell the difference between his and a woman’s.

Diaval swept the curtain back, “Ready for the feast?” he asked. 

“I’m always ready for well prepared food,” Philip said, pulling on his slippers. 

He and Diaval arrived after all of the servant boys were seated at the long table where he had once eaten with Maleficent and Diaval. Seats were left open for the newlyweds on either side of Maleficent at the end of the table. 

Once they were seated, Maleficent held up her glass, “A toast to Diaval’s and Philip’s union.” She said. 

The servant boys, all undeniably gorgeous, pinged their glasses together with muttered accordance. 

Diaval smiled brilliantly as his and Philip’s glasses connected. “To us.” He said. 

“To us.” Philip repeated and took a sip of the chilled wine. 

Philip ate more than he thought was possible of the succulent meat in front of him, as well as the soft bread and lightly spiced vegetables. He could barely bring his fork to his mouth when one of the servant boys revealed a divine cake. 

After the feast, he and Diaval retired upstairs. The room was lit with candles on the wall that Philip had never noticed since this was the first time he had ever been in Diaval’s room after dark. 

“I’m going to change.” Diaval announced immediately, pulling the curtain behind him. 

Philip slipped on bed clothes obviously for him that were laid out. After he did, he stared at the purple, almost black in the dim light, canopy above Diaval’s bed as he waited for Diaval to finish in the washroom. 

The cloth swished on the floor, notifying Philip that Diaval had reentered the room. 

Diaval was wearing only a short tunic, but it was shorter than Philip had ever seen a tunic on a grown man. It was halfway between his knees and his hips if not more. As Philip watched, Diaval’s tunic revealed more of his legs as he walked towards the bed and slid beneath the covers.

Philip closed the gap between them, once again pressing himself against Diaval and intertwining their legs. 

“Good night, my prince.” Diaval said, nuzzling his head into the crook of Philip’s arm. 

Philip hoped his pounding heart didn’t give away how happy he was to hear those words, “Sleep well,” he said. He was swept away into pleasant dreams from Diaval’s warmth.


	12. Red and Gold

“Make sure the strap is tight around him.” Philip ordered a servant boy who was cinching one of the horses that would pull Diaval’s carriage the next morning. 

Philip had awoken more rested than he had been in the past week. Ever since he woke up, he had been in a hurry to get back to the castle. He was eager to introduce his family to what they would think was their daughter-in-law.

“I guess I should get use to these.” Diaval said, pushing his hands over the fake bosom of his dress, “but they’re getting in my way.” 

Philip took his spouse’s hands in his. “You look stunning.” He said, hoping to reassure him in some way.

“I look like a woman.” Diaval corrected him, intertwining their fingers. 

“I know you’re a man. That’s what makes you stunning in that outfit.” Philip said, bringing their hands up to his lips and brushing them across Diaval’s fingers. He met Diaval’s eyes, “Ready to embark?” he asked, indicating the open carriage door. 

“Yes, you’re highness,” Diaval sighed in the old way he said the honorific.

Philip chuckled as he helped Diaval in, making sure he didn’t trip on the long dress. He then sat upon the outside perch of the carriage. 

Maleficent approached them from the side. “I’ll be able to transport you within an hour of your destination, but no further.” She said. She chanted something in a language Philip couldn’t understand and they were immediately transported to a land that he recognized. 

A lake glimmered half a mile from him, and with the forest to his left, Philip clicked the reigns of the horses and led them towards his palace. 

Just as promised, the sun had barely changed its position by the time they reached the front gates. 

A posted guard, in his kingdom’s distinctive diamond hats, spotted them and trotted toward them, “State your business.” He said approaching Philip. 

“I’m Prince Philip.” He said. “and I’ve returned with Princess Briar Rose.”

The guard’s eyes widened in recognition and he dropped to one knee, “Welcome back you highness. My apologies that I did not recognize his lordship.”

“At ease.” Philip said. He was happy to go back to his honorifics. “Would you alert my family to my presence? I want to introduce them all to my wife as soon as possible.”

“Of course, my Lord.” The man said, straightening to open the gates. 

Philip drove the carriage past the enormous stonewalls into the palace’s wide green garden. He rode down the smooth road, beneath the stone arch to the palace’ gate. He stopped the horses and dismounted to help Diaval out. 

“Your home is gorgeous.” Diaval remarked, his eyes darting about. He stepped down from the carriage with the help of Philip’s hand. 

“Thank you.” Philip smiled, “It’s our home now.” 

Diaval’ smirked at him, lively as ever. They strode arm in arm up the stairs of the palace and into the grand hall. The best feature was a grand red and gold staircase that Philip remembered sliding down in his childhood. He had to swallow the knot in his throat at the sight of the home that he thought he would never seen again in this life. 

“It’s good to see other colors besides purple and black.” Philip said, remarking on the reds and gold’s that surrounded him. 

“Philip” A woman’s voice echoed through the hall. 

Philip turned and ran to embrace the woman, “Mother,” he said, holding her tight by the waist, “I’ve missed you,” he said in ways of apology. 

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” she said, still gripping him. “Some one found your horse wandering about in the woods almost a day’s trip from here.”

“I’m sorry. I got stranded for a bit, but I did bring home a princess.” 

His mother’s eyes widened and froze on Diaval, seeing him for the first time. “My word.” She whispered, letting go of Philip. 

Diaval stepped forward and Philip placed an arm around his waist, “Mother, I’d like you to meet my wife, Briar Rose.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Diaval said.  
Philip glanced over at Diaval. His voice was higher than usual and it gave Philip a shock before he realized that it was a magic trick. That would take some getting used to. 

His mother took Diaval’s hand, “My dear, it’s my pleasure.” She said. She turned her curl-covered head to look at Philip, “I’ll have the cooks prepare a grand feast in celebration of your return and your lovely wife.” She smiled at both of them, thin wrinkles appearing on her cheeks. 

“That sounds splendid.” Philip said. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Just as promised, that evening a celebration was underway. Philip was greeted in turn by all of his relatives and ushered to eat as much food as he could for the cooks had skimped on nothing. Diaval was by his side the entire night, a twisted mix of the man Philip had first met and an eerily accurate copy of a stereotypical princess. 

Once the party had died down, all of the participants either drunk or too tired to stand, Philip and Diaval walked hand in hand to Philip’s room. 

Beyond his white wooden door was a quaint space with a four-poster bed covered in a blood red blanket and detailed with golden thread, which was surrounded by wooden furniture with gold and white accents. 

“I’m getting out of this dress.” Diaval said, his voice back to normal. He tugged wildly at the strings on his back that held it in place.

Philip stepped in to pull the chords that would free him. “You’re doing it wrong.” He said gaily from having his share of wine. 

“I don’t know if I can stand being Briar Rose for one for more second.” Diaval groaned as Philip loosened the dress. After he pulled enough of the strings, Diaval yanked it over his head, revealing that he was only wearing purple bloomers beneath it. 

“Adorable.” Philip mused, smiling dumbly despite himself.

“I want back in a tunic.” Diaval grumbled and opened one of the chests he had brought with him. He fumbled only for a second before freezing and staring at its contents. 

“I don’t believe this. I really don’t.” he said, picking up a vial from the chest. 

“What is it?” Philip asked, leaning over Diaval’s shoulder to examine the bottle.

“It’s poison,” Diaval spat as if he were spitting out its contents. 

“Why do you have that?” Philip asked, his mind foggy from the euphoria of the night. 

“My mother wanted me to poison you,” Diaval hissed. 

The words brought Philip’s happiness to a jolting halt. 

Philip was frozen as Diaval stomped to the window and threw the vial out of it. “I’m finished with her. I swear I’m never going back.” Daiblo shouted into the night air. “I’ve decided that being here is what’s best for me and I don’t care what she says.” He declared spinning back to face Philip. 

“She won’t leave us alone,” Philip said, the trance of joy broken. 

“She better. I’m married to you. She needs to learn to respect that.” Diaval yelled, returning to his trunk, “I swear if there’s anything else like that in this trunk, it’s going out the window right now.” He began dumping the contents of the chest haphazardly on the floor, occasionally flinging a garment across the room. 

Philip bent down and grabbed his hand, “Diaval, this won’t do anything to stop her.” He reasoned. 

Diaval raised up, his hair falling across his face, but not obscuring the moisture in his eyes. He dropped the dress in his other hand, and slammed into Philip, hugging him and hiding his face in his shoulder. 

“I just want to be with you,” Diaval’s voice shook, followed by shudders that wracked him. 

Philip held him there, one hand rustling the hair at the back of his neck. With every trembling breath, Diaval took; Philip felt a lump growing larger in his throat. 

He hated Maleficent. He could stand to be locked up, forcibly bound and forced to give her blood, but he couldn’t stand her hurting Diaval. He decided once he felt Diaval’s tears wet his neck on what he would do. 

“I’ll end this once and for all.” Philip whispered, holding Diaval’s head closer.

“What are you going to do?” Diaval sniffed. 

“If she wants Briar Rose to wake up, then I’ll do it on the condition that she leaves us alone.”

Diaval pulled back, his eyes pink, but alert. “If you do that she’ll destroy that kingdom.”   
“I’ll get Briar Rose and her family out if I can.” Philip said, his hatred fueling his confidence in his plan. 

“Philip,” Diaval pleaded, taking his hands. 

“My mind’s made up.” Philip said, slipping his fingers out, “I’ll go tonight.” 

“She’ll kill you,” Diaval said. 

“She’ll try and kill me anyway if I don’t do something,” Philip said. Breaking their embrace, he kicked off his formal trousers and pulled on clothes he wore when he went hunting. They had a few bloodstains and tonight there would be even more blood on his hands. How appropriate. 

When he turned Diaval was standing there, still only in his underwear with one hand stretched toward him. He looked like a wounded kitten. 

Without thinking, Philip pulled him into another hug, “I swear I’ll return tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Diaval whispered and kissed his cheek. 

Philip pulled back, nodded a farewell and disappeared through his door, through the castle and out of the old wooden doors towards the stable. 

He unhitched a horse that he knew, saddled him and rode beneath the full moon.


	13. Happily Ever After

Philip had scarcely gone beyond the castle walls, when a figure appeared from the bushes in front of him. He was at a full gallop and his horse stopped abruptly almost throwing him off. 

“I see my son didn’t fulfill his duties,” Maleficent said, her skin sickly in the moonlight. 

“I’m here to make a deal with you,” Philip replied, “I’ll wake Briar Rose if you stop trying to convince Diaval to kill me.” 

Maleficent caressed the staff in her hand, “I’ll accept that. I want to ensure those faeries and her kingdom never bother me.” She smiled, twirled the staff and slammed the bottom onto the ground, instantly transporting them to the castle where Briar Rose still slept. 

“I’ll find the fairies. You wake the princess,” Maleficent instructed, her dress gliding over the steps up to the door that Philip had entered not so long ago.   
Philip dismounted his horse and tied him onto a tree, then followed her in. Only moonlight streaming through windows led him to the tower where Briar Rose rested. 

The light from the window painted her pale as a porcelain doll. He brushed her corn yellow hair with his fingertips It was soft, not what he had expected from someone so corpselike. Her cheek was even warm to his touch. 

Philip tried to push the weight of his decision from his mind. With his kiss, all of the people this girl had ever loved would be in the hands of Maleficent. They probably wouldn’t even see this world again. The darkness that surrounded him in her tower made him feel like the real villain. Yet Diaval’s happiness was at stake as he stood there rubbing her soft skin. 

Picturing Diaval’s wide eyes right before he had left, Philip bent down and lightly kissed her on the lips. He laid his hand on the hair near her forehead and waited for her to wake. 

Minutes past, but her eyes didn’t flutter. 

Philip stroked her hair and bent down again. Maybe he had been to gentle. He pressed their lips roughly together and made sure it had been a few seconds before breaking the kiss.

Again he waited, but her fingers lay still and her eyelids were as tight as closed casket. 

Philip removed his hand from her head, suddenly uncomfortable from touching someone who was still asleep. He stepped back and watched her until he was out the door. 

Perhaps Maleficent knew something he didn’t. He wandered the dark corridors until he saw a blue light flickering on one of the walls in the basement. 

Maleficent was standing guard over three faeries that were slumped on the floor. 

“Queen Maleficent.” Philip called. 

She turned, her eyes wild in the light of her lit staff “Are you a coward? Why aren’t they awake?” she demanded. 

“I tried to wake Briar Rose, but she didn’t stir.” He explained, remaining in the doorway for fear of her wrath. 

Maleficent approached him, her long cape dragging behind her. “Take me to her.” 

Philip led Maleficent back to the tower where Briar Rose lay still asleep.

To prove his point, Philip stepped up and kissed her again with the same results. 

Maleficent stood beside him. “Perhaps you aren’t her true love. I see no reason besides that that she shouldn’t wake up.”

“How can I not be? I was able to find her when no one else could” Philip said, watching Maleficent’s expressionless face in the light shed by her blue tipped staff. 

She slowly turned her crowned head to look at him, “I suppose that one’s true love could change.” She said. 

Under her glare, Philip understood what she meant. Relief flooded him. “Does this mean that I’m not a threat anymore?” he asked. 

Her stare could have turned him to stone. “For the time being, but you know that I don’t approve of your marriage to my son.”

Philip gulped, “Understood.” He watched Briar Rose for a moment before turning to Maleficent. “If I’m of no further use, then I’ll be going.”

“Do you want to ride all that way on horse back?” Maleficent asked, not looking up. 

Philip worried what her alternative option was, “Yes,” he answered. 

“I was going to offer to transport you back, but if you won’t accept then I won’t object.” 

“Thank you, but I’ll go back on foot.” Philip said, bowing slightly as he left. He passed once again walked the moonlit corridors and out the great oak doors to where his horse was tied. He unhitched him, climbed on and rode under the full moon. 

By the time, he reached his castle, his legs ached from being stuck in the only position the stirrups allowed. The moon had begun its descent, so his light wasn’t coming in through the rafters at a good angle when he finally put his horse back in the stable. Although he was exhausted from lack of sleep, his boots pounded the stairs as he jogged up to the room where Diaval was waiting. 

He opened the door to find Diaval had fallen asleep in his chair. Although he might feel guilty for waking him, Philip had to tell him the news. 

“Diaval,” he whispered, allowing himself to kneel in front of the sleeping prince

Diaval’s eyes fluttered open, “You made it,” he muttered, half asleep.

Philip launched into his tale, “I couldn’t wake her.” He whispered. 

Diaval sat up more, “I wouldn’t want you to be responsible for that kingdom anyway.” 

“Oh, I tried, but I couldn’t” Philip said, smiling sheepishly. His heart was pounding and he tried to keep his breath easy. 

“Why didn’t she wake?” Diaval asked, his eyebrows scrunched over his eyes. 

“I guess she wasn’t my true love,” Philip said, standing and reaching for Diaval’s hand. Diaval stood easily, searching his face.

“You are,” Philip whispered and kissed him. It was short, but it meant more than any of their interactions, “I love you.” He whispered into Diaval’s ear. 

“I love you too,” Diaval said. 

With their confession, the intensity of the moment faded. “We should get to bed.” Philip said. 

Diaval pulled back and they held hands as they lay down next to each other again.   
Philip hugged Diaval close to him and fell asleep within seconds, knowing that his true love was finally by his side. 

 

THE END


End file.
